You Needed Me
by PepperjackCandy
Summary: Slash -- Harry/Percy In the summer post-GoF, Percy worries about Harry's emotional state, and, hopefully, romance blossoms
1. 3 July 1995

Title: You Needed Me -- 3 July 1995  
By: PepperjackCandy  
Rating: PG13  
Disclaimer: You recognize it? It's J.K. Rowling's.   
  
A/N: This may actually end up being the same universe as "Dust Will be the Serpent's Food." In fact, the more I think about it, the more I like that idea.  
  
Yeah, I know Harry acts a little irrationally here sometimes, but this starts about a week after the end of his fourth year, and so his nerves are just the *tiniest* bit on edge.  
  
Also, this is what I guess you'd call a fongsic. Or something. A songfic turned inside-out. See, I came up with the pairing, the ending, and the basic plot and long about Harry's first nightmare or so, the song that applies to it just sort of came to me. It's the old Anne Murray song [You Needed Me][1]. Yes, for anyone who can remember the days when you couldn't get away from that song, it's old and hokey, but it really says what I want to say, so there it is.  
  
===========  
  
Percy Weasley sat at his desk in this Ministry of Magic offices. They hadn't appointed a new head of the Department for International Magical Co-Operation yet, and, frankly, Percy had nothing to do.  
  
His father had told him to take some time off. His mother had told him to take some time off. Hell, even Cornelius Fudge had told him to take some time off. But he couldn't. He *had* to work, or what else did he have to live for?  
  
It was just as well he didn't have any work to do, since his thoughts kept drifting to recent events. Fudge - Mr. Fudge - kept insisting that Voldemort hadn't risen, but Percy didn't believe him. His younger brother's best friend, Harry, had seen it with his own eyes.  
  
Harry. Harry Potter. Percy worried about that young man. Harry had recently seen things that no-one should ever have to see - not just the rebirth of Voldemort, but the heartless murder of innocent Cedric Diggory, as well.  
  
He sighed and looked at the clock. He still had half an hour before lunch. He stared out the window for another minute, then flipped idly through his MagiDex, that held the names and addresses of all of his business contacts. Well, it held his parents' address, and Bill's, and Charlie's, and Hermione's . . . he stopped when one card suddenly leaped into his hand.   
  
_**Harry Potter  
4 Privet Drive  
Little Whinging, Surrey**_  
  
That clinched it. It must be a sign. He had to go to Little Whinging to check on Harry. There were still fifteen minutes before lunch, but he figured he could be forgiven, so long as he returned from lunch fifteen minutes early, and he couldn't imagine that he wouldn't be even earlier than that, since all he was going to do was check on his brother's friend.  
  
Like as not, Harry was fine, and he'd thank Percy, a little perplexedly, perhaps, for his concern, and Percy would leave.   
  
_But what if he laughs?_ A voice asked Percy. _He'd be glad to see Ron, of course, or Fred and George, but you've never been particularly close. He'll probably laugh at you._  
  
For once in his life, Percy ignored the voice of his self-doubt and did what he felt in his heart was right.  
  
He stood and walked out into the corridor. He passed the department secretary's cubicle, and was about to tell her that he was leaving for lunch, but then he realized that she hadn't been in to work since they'd temporarily shut down the department until they could appoint a new department head.  
  
So, shrugging, he walked into the park that surrounded the Ministry of Magic offices, and Apparated to Little Whinging.  
  
Soon, he was standing outside Number 4 Privet Drive, and he could hear raised voices from inside the house. Concerned, he knocked on the front door.  
  
A terrified blond woman opened the door. "Thank heavens you're here!" She breathed. "It's my nephew. He's gone completely . . . ." She looked beyond Percy into the street and didn't see any kind of vehicle. "But how are you going to take him away?" She asked.  
  
"Don't worry, Ma'am. I can handle it." He hoped he came across as confident. "I'm with the Ministry of Magic."  
  
"Oh? Oh!" Her eyes widened as she took in Percy's robe. She shrank away from him, looking afraid. "Well, do whatever you have to do to him. Just make him stop!"  
  
Percy *almost* enjoyed the look of fear on the woman's face. It beat the helplessness he felt most of the time, certainly.   
  
"Where is he?"  
  
"Upstairs. Second door on the right."  
  
Percy need not have asked for directions. He was able to follow the sounds of a raised voice, which was punctuated by hollow thumping sounds, all the way to the correct room.  
  
The door was locked, but _alohomora_ opened it right up. Percy couldn't believe what he saw there.  
  
Harry, still wearing his Hogwarts school robes, was pounding his fists into the wall and swearing floridly. Every few hits, he'd punch through the plaster and move down a step to an undamaged section.  
  
"Bloody - " Percy exclaimed as he threw himself at Harry. He knew that Harry would resist attempts to restrain him, but judging by the red smears his fists left on the wall, something needed to be done - soon.  
  
With a skill born of nineteen years of wrestling with siblings, he rushed in, grabbing Harry's arms and holding them behind his back, while pushing him off-balance. Percy held tightly, so that Harry wouldn't drop hard, instead lowering him gently to the floor and holding the younger man down by sitting on him. Harry struggled agains Percy, trying to throw him off.  
  
But Percy wasn't so easily unbalanced. While holding Harry steady, he reached into his pocket for his wand. "_Sedo!_" He incanted, hoping the sedative spell would be enough and he wouldn't have to resort to _stupefy_ or even the full-body-bind. But whatever it was, he'd do it to protect Harry from himself.  
  
Fortunately, that seemed to be enough. Harry stopped struggling and burst into tears. Percy climbed off and gathered Harry against him, holding him gently as sobs wracked his body. _Harry can't have eaten in days,_ Percy wondered as he felt the younger man's birdlike form, _he's always been thin, but this . . . ._  
  
Percy held Harry, rocking slowly back and forth, until the blonde woman, whom Percy guessed must be Harry's Aunt Petunia, showed up again. "I thought you were here to take him away."   
  
Percy couldn't possibly interpret the woman's tone, so he asked, "Would you like me - us - to?"  
  
"Of *course*! He's insane. And dangerous. I wouldn't have called for help if I didn't want him out of here."  
  
_Help?_ Percy's pulse raced. _She must mean the Muggle authorities._   
  
Just then, he heard someone knocking on the door.  
  
Percy's eyes widened. "Get rid of them."  
  
"But . . .?"  
  
"I'm with the Ministry. He's a wizard." Percy said pointedly. When she hesitated, he touched his wand.  
  
She flinched, even though he hadn't done anything. "All right. I'll do anything you say. Just don't hurt us."  
  
He heard her heading downstairs and making excuses to the police officers. Harry felt limp and heavy in his arms, as if he'd gone to sleep. _He probably needs the rest._ Percy mused to himself, wondering briefly if the sedative charm he'd used had been too much.   
  
He looked around the room, noticing that the walls were full of holes and streaked with reddish-brown marks that must be Harry's blood. He glanced at Harry's hands and flinched. They were bloody and red. They looked like raw meat. He had no medical training, but Molly had a cleaning spell she used on her children's cuts and scrapes, and he figured at least he could try to keep Harry's hands from getting infected.  
  
Once that was done, he looked again at the damage Harry had done to the room. "_Reparo._" He whispered as he indicated the holes in the walls. Suddenly, the holes were gone and the blood streaks were cleaned up.   
  
He walked to Hedwig's cage, opening it. On impulse, he whispered, "I'll see you at my flat this evening," to her as he carried her to the bedroom window, which he opened, allowing her to fly out.  
  
Petunia came back upstairs just as Percy was helping a groggy Harry to his feet. "We'll be in touch about where to send his things, ma'am." He said curtly as he walked Harry to the stairs. There was no way he could safely make it down the stairs like this, so he levitated Harry, getting a small, perverse, satisfaction from the look of horror on Petunia's face as he used the _wingardium leviosa_ charm.  
  
He lowered Harry back to his own feet and led the sleepy boy out of the house with a snarled, "Don't tell *anyone* about this."   
  
Together, they left Number 4 Privet Drive far behind them.  
  
Percy, reluctant to rouse Harry, supported him as they walked down to a local park, where he sat the younger wizard on a park bench. He sat next to him, pulling his head down to rest on his shoulder. _This is nice,_ he thought as he relaxed up against Harry. _Where did that thought come from? Harry is Ron's friend. Not mine. He'd never be *my* friend._  
  
He looked at the sleeping teen. _I suppose I should wake him up._ He thought reluctantly as he looked around to make sure they were alone. "_Enervate!_" He whispered softly.  
  
Harry awoke with a scream that drove the birds from the trees overhead.   
  
Percy pulled him to his shoulder, patting his back gently. "It's all right, Harry." He crooned softly as Harry struggled against him.  
  
"No it isn't!" Harry violently wrenched himself from Percy's grasp. "Nothing'll ever be all right again."  
  
He lurched unsteadily to his feet. "Where are we?" He looked around, then down at Percy, startled. "Percy? What are you doing here?"  
  
"Rescuing you from the local constabulary. Your Aunt -- Petunia? -- called the police. You were. . . causing quite a ruckus back there."  
  
Harry looked down at his wounded hands and winced. "Yeah. I seem to remember something about that." He looked up at Percy. "How did you get me out of there?"  
  
Percy smiled at him. "I'm with the Ministry, remember. I just let her think that I was sent to take you into custody. Now I just have to get you to the Burrow . . ."  
  
"No!" Harry exclaimed. "I don't want to go there! I . . . don't want anyone to know where I am!" 

Harry's desperation touched Percy and, he felt like an idiot offering, but he felt it was worth a try, "would you be willing to stay at my flat? It's small, but . . ."  
  
Harry smiled a bit sadly. "You'd be willing to put me up?"  
  
"Of course I would." Percy insisted.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Harry's thanks made Percy feel warm inside. "You're welcome. I'd offer to take you out to eat, but unless there's a wizarding restaurant around here . . ." He pulled a Galleon and a couple of sickles out of his pocket.  
  
"Don't worry about that. I've got a few Muggle pounds on me. If I'm right about where we are, there's a coffee shop around the corner with pretty good sandwiches."  
  
"But . . ."  
  
Harry gave Percy a look that silenced the older man instantly. "Look. You don't have Muggle money. So unless you're going to let me reimburse you for putting a roof over my head . . ."  
  
"Of course I won't!"  
  
"Then let me pay for lunch and we'll call it even."  
  
Percy reluctantly agreed. They walked around the corner, Percy hoping that he could wrap his mask of self-confidence around himself in such a way that no-one would notice that he was wearing a wizard's robes, since he couldn't take them off. All he had on underneath was linen underwear.   
  
Soon they were seated in a booth, eating corned beef on rye, chatting as if they were old friends, and obligation and the Ministry of Magic were the farthest things from Percy's mind.  
  
An hour later, they emerged from the restaurant and walked out to the edge of town, still talking animatedly. Percy, it turned out, really was something of a closet Quidditch fan, but he feared ridicule from his siblings, since he really didn't have anything like a favorite team. He just enjoyed watching the ballet of the players in flight.  
  
Still, he could talk positions and strategy as knowledgeably as any Harry knew, and more than most. Thus it was that as they headed out of town and along towards the next town over, that Harry was able to put the memory of Cedric's death behind him for a little while.  
  
Eventually, darkness fell, and Percy was able to signal for the Knight Bus, which showed up almost immediately. They climbed aboard and Percy began fishing in his pockets for his money. The fare came to twenty-two sickles for the two of them, but Percy only had one Galleon and two sickles, which was three sickles short.   
  
"Here." Harry said, never meeting Percy's eye, as he handed over a few sickles that he had in his pocket. It had been like pulling teeth to get Percy to allow him to pay for lunch. He didn't want to hear his new friend's objections to this. Finally as the bus started moving, he looked up at Percy. "You can owe me."  
  
They were the first passengers on the bus this night, so after another stop to pick up a stranded witch in Cardiff, the bus pulled up in front of Percy's building.   
  
Harry and Percy climbed down from the bus and took the walk-up to Percy's flat.  
  
"It's not much." Percy warned him as he opened the door.   
  
He was right. It was the smallest flat Harry had ever seen in his life. It reminded him of the old Muggle joke about putting the key in the door and breaking the window.   
  
Then his eyes widened. Sitting in the window, between two other owls, was Hedwig. "Hedwig!" He exclaimed, running to her side and scratching her gently behind the wings.  
  
He recognized one of the other owls - Hermes, Percy's owl, but the other one . . .  
  
"Penelope's owl." Percy said in a disgruntled tone, as if he'd heard Harry's thoughts. "She's probably wondering where I am."  
  
He took the note from the owl's leg and read it. "Yep. She wants me to go to dinner with her."  
  
"Then go." Harry said simply. "I'll just fall asleep on your couch anyhow. I'd be no fun to be around."  
  
"Nonsense." Percy responded. "I'm not about to leave you alone after everything you've been through."  
  
"I'll be fine."   
  
"I'm *not* *going.*"  
  
"Fine. Then you can just sit there and watch me sleep on the couch!" Harry realized he was yelling, but he didn't care anymore.  
  
"Good. I think I will." Percy picked up a book and emphatically sat down in the one armchair in his living area.   
  
"Good." Harry flopped down on the couch, pretending to be asleep, but soon enough, he really was.  
  
Harry awoke feeling constricted, claustrophobic. He could hear echoes of the voices from his dreams, taunting him. They told him that he should have died. That Cedric didn't deserve what had befallen him. And when he felt weight on top of him and his elbow ran into an obstruction, he knew what had happened. They, whoever they were, had locked him in a coffin and they were going to bury him alive. He could almost hear the thumps of the dirt against the top of the coffin.   
  
"Help! Help me!" He yelled, reaching forward to pound on the top of the coffin and finding . . .   
  
Nothing.  
  
"_Lumos_" A quiet male voice said and Harry squinted into the light, expecting the worst.  
  
Suddenly, though, he realized that he was on a couch, and that the weight over him was actually a very soft woolen blanket. Someone came over to sit next to him, gathering him into his arms, and Harry realized who it was. "Percy." He breathed quietly as the older man held him tightly.  
  
"Are you all right?" Percy asked. "Sounds like you were having a nightmare."  
  
Harry nodded, reluctant to let go of his protector. "I was."  
  
"Want to talk about it? I can make us some hot chocolate."   
  
Percy pulled his head back to look directly into Harry's eyes. Percy had nice eyes, Harry decided. They were a warm hazel. And so full of understanding.  
  
"That'd be nice."  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Would you mind letting go? I can't get into the kitchen with you holding on like this."  
  
"Oh. Sorry." It took great force of will for Harry to release Percy. By then, his eyes had adjusted to the light, and as Percy put his glasses on and stepped into the kitchen area, Harry saw a blanket and pillow on the floor next to the couch.   
  
"Percy?" He asked.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Where are you sleeping?"  
  
"Right there." Percy indicated the pillow.  
  
"Oh. Why aren't you sleeping in your bed?"  
  
"Because you're sleeping in my bed."  
  
Suddenly, Harry felt awful. "Oh, Percy. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have assumed that . . ."  
  
"Don't worry about it." Percy interrupted, taking two mugs from a shelf. "I wouldn't have let you sleep on the floor anyway. If you'd slept on the floor, I would have done, too."  
  
A few minutes later, Percy came back into the living area with a tray bearing two steaming mugs. Harry took one. "Thanks."  
  
"You want to talk about it?" Percy asked, sitting in the armchair.  
  
Harry shook his head. "No. Just the usual, you know?"  
  
Percy, correctly assuming it was about either Cedric's death or Voldemort's return, nodded and sipped his hot chocolate.  
  
Harry got his first good look around Percy's flat. It was, as he'd noted earlier, tiny, but there were little homey touches scattered around. Pictures of assorted redhaired Weasleys smiled and waved from their frames, and the end table was covered with what looked like a hand-crocheted doily.   
  
"Ginny made that." Percy said proudly as he saw Harry noticing it.  
  
"Really? I didn't know she did things like that."   
  
"Oh, yes. She knits, too. Nearly as well as Mum does."  
  
Harry's eyes lit on another photograph, then. One of Percy and a brunette. Harry stood and picked it up. "This is you and Penelope, right?"  
  
Percy blushed. "Yeah. At our engagement party over Christmas."  
  
"You're engaged? Congratulations!" He beamed.  
  
"Thanks." Percy said without enthusiasm, making Harry think that all was not well between Percy and Penelope.  
  
After they'd finished their hot chocolate, Harry and Percy lay back down to go to sleep. Harry wondered for a moment what would happen if he'd ask Percy to hold him until he went to sleep, but thought better of it immediately.  
  
Instead, he lay back on the couch, alone, but not as lonely as he'd feared, as Percy lay down on the floor next to him. "I'll leave the light on." Percy said as he reached up to touch Harry's shoulder gently. "Will that be all right?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Yes. Thank you."  
  
And with that, both men went back to sleep. 

   [1]: http://www.summer.com.br/~pfilho/html/lyrics/y/you_needed_me.txt



	2. 4 July 1995

Title: You Needed Me - 4 July 1995  
By: PepperjackCandy  
Rating: PG13  
Disclaimer: You recognize it? It's J.K. Rowling's. Except the [National Gallery][1], which, near as I can figure, belongs to the British government.  
  
A/N: I have an unfortunate fascination with art museums. And since I couldn't justify using the [Art Institute of Chicago][2], the [Dallas Museum of Art][3], or the [San Antonio Museum of Art][4], which are the only art museums I know really *well,* I had to sort of browse the National Gallery website and hope for the best. I hope I don't embarrass myself too badly.  
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed Chapter 1 - Tiger Tiger, Strega Brava, Tessie, Myr, Rubicon, Azure, Gwen, Coqui, Just Silver, Artema, Ruka-chan, Courteney, and Sofia_Asman (hope I didn't miss anyone).  
  
===========  
  
It was full light before Harry woke the next morning. He could hear birds chirping outside the window, and he looked up to see three owls there again - Hermes, Hedwig and . . . Pig?  
  
"'Morning, sleepy." Percy greeted him. "I can make scrambled . . ."  
  
"You told him!" Harry burst out.  
  
"What?" Percy looked confused at his newfound friend's irrational behavior.   
  
"Ron! I asked you not to tell him where I was, and you told him anyway!"  
  
Percy tried his hardest to project the utter sincerity he felt when he said. "I did *not* tell Ron where you are. I think that as far as he knows, you're still on Privet Drive."  
  
"Then what's . . .?" He pointed at Pig.  
  
Percy lifted Pig from the perch and carried him to Harry. "I don't know. The note's for you."  
  
"Oh." Harry said, embarrassed, as he took the note from Pig's leg and scratched the tiny owl behind his wings. Pig fluttered back up to the perch. Harry could almost hear Hermes and Hedwig sighing in resignation as the tiny owl joined them.  
  
Harry looked at the clock, then at Percy. "Hey. Shouldn't you be at work?"  
  
Percy shrugged. "They haven't appointed a new Minister for International Magical Co-Operation yet, and Dad and Fudge have been after me to take some time off, so I owled them this morning telling them that I'd be busy all day."  
  
"Busy with what?"  
  
"I don't know. What would you like to do today?"  
  
Harry's eyes widened. "I don't know. Whatever you'd like to do."  
  
"Well, since you don't want anyone to know where you are," Percy opened a box on his desk and pulled out two Galleons, "I suggest we take these to Gringott's and change them for Muggle money and spend the day on the Muggle side of town."  
  
"Are you sure?" After seeing Percy's discomfort in the coffee shop the previous day, he was uncertain about how well he'd handle an all-day Mugglefest.  
  
"Why not? If nothing else, it'll drive Dad mad with envy."  
  
As Percy fixed breakfast, Harry read his note from Ron. It was the usual, expressing concern for Harry's emotional condition, and wondering if Harry would be able to visit him at The Burrow this summer.  
  
Harry quickly scrawled out a reassuring response, telling his friend that he was feeling much better, which he was surprised to realize was the truth, and that he'd be glad to stay at the Burrow later that summer, which he realized as he wrote it was a lie, but he couldn't very well convince Ron that he was fine if he tried to get out of his annual Burrow visit. He tied the response to Pig's leg and sent the tiny owl on his way back to Ron.  
  
After they'd each showered, and Harry had used a quick cleaning spell on his robes, they were ready to go out. The back of Percy's building faced Diagon Alley, and they went out the Diagon Alley side.  
  
"Percy?" Harry asked as they walked down the street towards Gringott's.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Do you have any Muggle clothes?"  
  
Percy nodded. "Dad always felt it was good to have some on hand, just in case."  
  
"Oh. Good." Harry nodded.  
  
"Aren't your Muggle clothes at the Dursleys' still?"   
  
Harry's eyes widened. "I completely forgot about that."  
  
"You could borrow some of mine, though they'd be a little too big for you."  
  
Harry laughed. "Obviously you don't remember my Muggle clothes."  
  
Percy looked confused, so Harry explained. "All of my Muggle clothes are hand-me-downs from my cousin, Dudley. Dudley's . . . well, let's just say that you and I could *both* wear his clothes. At the same time. So if your clothes are a little large, I'm sure I'll be just fine."  
  
They arrived at Gringott's and Percy had his two Galleons changed for fifty Muggle pounds. After their visit to Gringott's, they returned to Percy's flat to change. Percy lent Harry a shirt and trousers that had fit him several years ago, but which were now several sizes too small for him. They would have fit Harry perfectly, if Harry hadn't lost so much weight recently.  
  
"When's the last time you ate regular meals?" Percy asked, concerned, as he took in the way the button-down shirt hung loosely from Harry's skeletal form.  
  
"June 23." Harry responded distractedly. "Well, lunch on the 24th."   
"How can you . . ." Percy was about to ask how Harry could pinpoint it so exactly, but the significance of the date hit him.  
  
"You haven't eaten since the Third Task? Harry . . ."  
  
"I've eaten enough." Harry said defensively.  
  
Percy merely sighed heavily and let it go at that.  
  
They finished dressing - Percy didn't have any shoes that would fit Harry, so Harry ended up wearing his school shoes, which were actually a kind of lace-up boot, tucking them inside his jeans and hoping no-one would notice.  
  
They walked out of the Muggle side of Percy's building into the street. "So. Where do you want to go?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "I've never . . . ." He tried again. "I've never had anyone ask me that question before." He finished plaintively.  
  
"Well, then it's about time someone asked you." Percy smiled. "So, where do you want to go?"  
  
"Um," Harry grasped at the first thing that came to mind. "The museum?"  
  
"Sounds good to me." Percy smiled at him as they started walking. "One thing, though. Where's the museum?"  
  
Harry stopped and stared at Percy, wide-eyed, then burst out laughing. "Beats me."  
  
"I guess we'll have to ask for directions."  
  
They went to the first shop they passed. "Excuse me," Percy said to the woman behind the counter, "but could you tell me how to get from here to the museum?"  
  
"The museum? Which one?"   
  
Percy and Harry looked at each other, sharing their confusion. "Whichever one's closest?"  
  
Soon, they were in the National Gallery standing in front of Botticelli's "Venus and Mars."  
  
"Well, that's very . . ." Harry looked at Percy, who was actually starting to blush. Whether it was from the nude Mars, with only a sheet draped across his hips, or Venus, clad in a filmy white garment that only barely provided adequate coverage Harry wasn't sure. Perhaps it was just the suggestiveness of it all.   
  
Percy was still staring at the painting. "Dad told me about these Muggle paintings. They don't move, do they?" He mumbled something under his breath about how that was probably just as well.  
  
Harry shook his head. "No. I think they probably don't need to, though. I think they're quite expressive enough like this."   
  
Percy nodded. "Let's move on, then, shall we?"  
  
They stopped next in front of "The Virgin of the Rocks" by Leonardo da Vinci.   
  
"Now *this* one looks like it should move." Percy pointed. "You see that gap up there between the rocks? Doesn't it look like we should see *something* darting through there?"  
  
"Yeah. I could see that." Harry said, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile.  
  
Later, as they left that wing of the museum, and went into the West Wing, a name caught Harry's eye. "Titian." He said.  
  
"What?"  
  
"That artist, there." He pointed at one of the paintings. "His name, 'titian,' means a shade of red hair." Harry looked pointedly up at the red curls topping Percy's head.  
  
"In fact," Harry walked to one of the paintings, and pointed at the right-hand figure. "He sort of looks like a Weasley, doesn't he?"  
  
Percy looked at it long, tilting his head from side to side. "My cousin Albert." He finally decided. "It looks like my cousin Albert."  
  
They continued walking the galleries of the museum, talking and laughing, quietly, over the paintings on display. They became more relaxed as the day went on, more prone to joke and laugh together.   
  
Harry was reminded of Ron, in a way, but in most ways, Percy was clearly different from his youngest brother. For one thing, Percy had a much drier sense of humor than any of his siblings. Sometimes Harry had to stop and watch Percy's eyes to see if he was joking.   
  
After they'd finished the West Wing, Harry realized that for the first time in days he was actually hungry.   
  
"Can we stop and get something to eat?" He asked shyly.  
  
Percy's jaw dropped and he blanched. "Oh, my God. I got so wrapped up in this I completely forgot that you need to eat. I'm so sorry!"   
"It's all right." Harry said dismissively. "I just noticed myself."  
  
"No. I should have remembered." Percy scolded himself.  
  
They took the steps down to the café and served themselves up a couple of sandwiches and some pastry, then after Percy paid for it, with some coaching from Harry, they found a table near the windows looking out at the traffic outside.  
  
"Why've you gone all 'mother hen' on me, Percy?"   
  
"That was direct." Harry could hear the flinch in Percy's voice.  
  
"If you want me to dance around the question, I'm sure I can."  
  
This time, Percy smiled. "That won't be necessary." He sighed. "I actually feel like this all the time, even when I'm acting like a stuffed shirt."   
  
Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Percy forestalled him. "Don't deny it. I've been ribbed about it enough by Fred and George." He sighed. "Well, first you know the age differences among us?"  
  
"I know that there's two years between you and the twins, and Ron, and one between Ron and Ginny. Now, between you and Charlie, it's . . ."  
  
"Seven. And Bill's three years older than Charlie. So Bill was ten when I was born."  
  
Harry nodded his understanding.  
  
"When I was one year old, Bill left for Hogwarts. One year after Bill left, the twins were born. And then, when the twins were two, and just after Ron was born, Charlie left. So here I was, four, and suddenly thrown into the role of 'big brother.'" He shrugged. "It never occurred to me that I could be just another child like the twins. All I'd ever known was 'big brother,' 'little brothers.' And I thought of myself as the 'big brother.' I guess I've spent my whole life trying to live up to that."  
  
Somehow, this was the one of the saddest things that Harry had heard in a long time. He'd had his childhood stolen from him by Voldemort, and by the Dursleys, but to have relinquished it because that's the role you think your family expects from you . . .  
  
Wanting to comfort his friend, Harry reached across the table, placing his hand over Percy's. Words failed him, but he knew that Percy understood when he smiled sadly. "Thank you." He whispered.  
  
As they finished their lunch, Harry realized what he could do to repay Percy for his kindness - introduce him to childhood.   
  
As they continued their tour of the gallery, Harry realized that Percy no longer seemed as embarrassed by the more scantily-clad works, and he seemed to have come to some kind of peace with their static condition.   
  
"Actually," he admitted while looking at a Monet painting of his Japanese bridge. "Some of these would probably be diminished by movement. I don't think this could be improved any if some person kept clomping back and forth across the bridge. And anyway, the willows look like they're moving already. You sure this Monet guy wasn't a wizard?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "I don't know for sure, but I bet he was pure Muggle."  
  
Later, as they left the gallery, Percy gave Harry a half-smile. "At the risk of quoting my father, 'It's amazing the things those Muggles come up with.'"  
  
Harry chuckled appreciatively, and together they headed back towards Percy's flat.  
  
Percy whipped up some dinner for them, and as Percy didn't have a table, they sat together on the floor of his flat, eating in companionable silence.   
  
Harry finally broke the silence. "This is really good."  
  
Percy sighed. "Nah. It's not much. If you want to really get fattened up . . ."  
  
"I know, let you take me to the Burrow. But I don't *want* to go there, Percy. I want to hide out here with you."  
  
"Well, then, if you're up to more meals like this, who'm I to argue?" Percy reached for Harry's plate, which he held out of his host's reach.  
  
"Oh, no. If you're not going to let me pay my own way, at least let me do the cleaning up."  
  
Percy gave in with good grace and allowed Harry to take the dishes into the kitchen and use a charm he'd picked up from Molly Weasley to clean them. Then Harry returned to the living area.  
  
"Don't you have a fiancee to be visiting?" Harry asked as he sat back down.  
  
Percy sounded a little hurt. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"  
  
"Of course not. But you and Penelope *are* engaged. And so I figured that you'd spend some time together sometimes . . . ."  
  
Percy sighed. "The only reason we're engaged is because I haven't had the courage to break it off yet."  
  
Harry slid over on the couch and made room for Percy to come sit by him. Once Percy had moved and was seated next to him, Harry asked. "What's the matter?"  
  
Percy paused for a long while, then said, "I guess it started at our engagement party. Charlie brought his girlfriend."  
  
"Charlie has a girlfriend?"   
  
Percy nodded. "They're perfect for each other. They have the same sense of humor, they like the same things -- well, most of the same things, they practically finish each other's sentences. I was reminded so much of Mum and Dad . . . . Well, Penelope and I aren't like that. She's beautiful, and smart, and I was so flattered that she'd *want* to date me that I'd never noticed that we don't have anything in common."  
  
He snorted bitterly. "She thinks I don't have a sense of humor. Do you think I have a sense of humor?" For some reason, Harry's answer to that question was of utmost importance to him.  
  
"Of course I think you have a sense of humor. It's a little . . . dry, but I get your jokes. Most of the time. I think." _I hope._ He added silently.  
  
Percy smiled widely. "You do. At least, you laugh in all of the appropriate places."   
  
Harry breathed a sigh of relief.   
  
"But you see why I just need to get my courage up to break it off. I mean, she doesn't even think she should *hide* the fact that she doesn't understand my sense of humor."  
  
Percy sighed and Harry, not knowing what to do, acted on instinct. He reached out and gathered Percy close to his chest, as the older man had done for him previously. They sat that way for a long time, until Percy finally stood.   
  
"Well, better be getting to sleep." He smiled at Harry. "Thanks."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For listening. For being there."  
  
"You're welcome." Harry said simply with a soft smile.   
  
Percy lay in the nest he'd made for himself on the floor as Harry lay on the couch. Both had taken off their glasses.  
  
"You want the light on or off?" Percy asked.  
  
Harry turned and smiled down at him. "I think I'd like it on again tonight. Just one more night."  
  
"I'll leave it on as many nights as you need."   
  
"Thanks. Good night, Percy."  
  
"Good night, Harry."

   [1]: http://www.nationalgallery.org.uk
   [2]: http://www.artic.edu/aic/index.html
   [3]: http://www.dm-art.org/
   [4]: http://www.samuseum.org/



	3. 5 July 1995

Title: You Needed Me - 5 July 1995  
By: PepperjackCandy  
Rating: PG13  
Disclaimer: You recognize it? It's J.K. Rowling's.   
  
A/N: Thanks to Krissy, Velondra, Myr, Niana, Just Silver (hey, you could always work P/O into your "&" series ;-), Rubicon, Jennylovesnick, excuetee, Strega Brava, Artema, Cokqui, Min, Kcarke and Jennifer for your reviews (and, again, I hope I haven't missed anyone).   
  
===========  
  
The next morning, Harry awoke feeling good for the first time he could remember. Percy, his hair still wet from a shower, was bustling around the kitchen. Harry realized that Percy was wearing his work robes.  
  
"You going in to work?"  
  
Percy startled a little. "Yeah. Just for a while. I thought about owling Mr. Fudge again to take the day off, but . . . I just can't do it. I've got to go in and, you know, make sure everything's still there, or something."  
  
"That's all right." Harry stood and walked into the kitchen area. "Just point me in the direction of breakfast and lunch and let me know if you have any books around here to read, and I'll be fine."  
  
"Books? Books I have." Percy walked to the desk in the living area and picked up a set of keys. "My first purchase," he said proudly. He put the key in a lock on the desk and turned it, then opened a drawer, which was now full of books. "Every key on this ring will lead to another set of books."   
  
He handed the keys to Harry, who took it numbly, reminded of the trunk where Barty Crouch had held Mad-Eye Moody prisoner.   
  
"You all right, Harry?" Percy looked concerned.  
  
Harry nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine." He lied. He felt vaguely nauseated.  
  
"You're not all right." Percy informed him, guiding him to the couch and gently putting Harry's head between his knees until the color returned to his face.  
  
After a few minutes, Harry felt better. "I was fine." He insisted.  
  
Percy nodded, obviously not believing him. "Right. And I'm a Slytherin."  
  
"All right. It's just . . . . Barty Crouch had a trunk that operated like that. It's where he held Mad-Eye Moody prisoner."  
  
Percy flinched. "Oh, God." Now it was his turn to blanch.  
  
Harry smiled at him wanly. "It's all right, Percy. You couldn't have known that it would have that effect. And a desk like that is a very sensible purchase for a place this small."   
  
"You're just saying that to make me feel better." Percy looked like he wasn't sure if he should smile or not.  
  
"No, I'm not. I mean it. But is it working?"  
  
"A little." Percy admitted grudgingly.  
  
"Now go to work. I'll face the desk bravely while you're gone."   
  
Percy couldn't help laughing.  
  
"Oh, and Perce."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Could you please pick up a deck of playing cards for me while you're out?"  
  
"Sure. You know, you *can* leave the flat. You're not my prisoner."  
  
"I know. I just don't think I'm up to it. Facing Diagon Alley by myself."  
  
"Well, they'll have to be wizarding cards. I may still have plenty of Muggle money, but wouldn't even know where to start looking for Muggle cards."  
  
"Yeah. Wizarding cards'll be fine."  
  
Percy left for work, then, and Harry congratulated himself on step one of reclaiming Percy's lost childhood.  
  
After Percy left, Harry got a bowl of cereal from the kitchen and then cautiously approached the desk. He inserted one of the keys and opened the book drawer, then after he'd examined the contents, put in the next key and opened it again. He repeated this until he'd looked through all of the books that Percy had in the desk, and found that eventually he lost the negative association he had with Barty Crouch in his anticipation over whether he'd *ever* find an interesting book in Percy's collection.  
  
The books that Percy had were very interesting, if you were into wizarding history -- apparently Professor Binns had somehow kindled some kind of interest in history in Percy -- or biographies of famous wizards. But Harry would have given his eye-teeth for a novel.  
  
Finally, he picked up a book on the life of Raymond Luxury-Yacht, and took it over to the couch and, eating the cereal from the bowl, dry, began to read.   
  
Percy returned several hours later, to find Harry sitting in exactly the same position. The only thing that had changed was that Harry was about halfway done with his book.  
  
"Good afternoon, Harry." Percy said as he walked in. "Did you find something to read?"  
  
Harry nodded and showed Percy the book.   
  
"That's one of my favorites." Percy smiled. "Have you gotten to the Goblin Wars yet?"  
  
"No."  
  
"That's the best part. If you've liked it so far, you'll love that part."  
  
Harry had to admit to himself that the book was rather interesting. In a non-fictiony kind of way. "Pity you don't have any novels, though."  
  
Percy shrugged as he began puttering around in the kitchen preparing lunch. "Never really had much interest in them. Oh!" He reached into his pocket and pulled something out that he threw to Harry. His aim was pretty good, and Harry caught it easily.   
  
Harry looked down at it. It was the playing cards he'd asked for. "Thanks, Perce."   
  
"You're welcome." Percy smiled.   
  
Percy served their lunch and as Harry carried their dishes back into the kitchen, he asked, "Are you going back to work?"  
  
"I wouldn't be a very good host if I worked all the time. So no. I'm taking the rest of the day off."  
  
"Good." Harry grinned at his friend and came back to the living area, sitting on the floor and taking up the deck of cards. "Come and sit down here with me."  
  
"Has Trelawney got you thinking you can tell fortunes now?" Percy lowered himself to the floor.  
  
"No. I wanted to play a game of Exploding Snap."  
  
Disappointment clouded Percy's features. "You want to go to the Burrow, don't you?"   
"Percy . . ."  
  
"It's all right. I mean, why be here all alone, or with me, when you could be in a houseful of people who want to play games and things. I'd want to get away from me, too."   
  
Harry dropped the deck of cards and leaned over, grabbing Percy's shoulders and looking him square in the eye. "Percy. I want to be here. With you. I . . . think we've become friends, haven't we?"   
  
"I guess." Percy admitted sulkily.  
  
"So. Are we gonna play or not?"  
  
Percy gave in and they sat on the floor for several hours, playing Exploding Snap. It had been years since Percy had played, so Harry had to teach him the rules all over again, but it was worth it. In the final analysis, Percy won as many games as he lost. Harry was unsure if that meant that he was a good teacher or Percy was a good student.   
  
When Percy was about to suggest a change of activity, Harry said, "Let me guess, you want to kick my butt in chess now, too."   
  
Percy shook his head. "No. I hate to admit it, but I'm a terrible chess player. Ron got all of the chess genes in the family."  
  
"Really? I thought it was a family trait."  
  
"Well, Bill's pretty good, too. And Charlie, now that I think of it. Ginny's not bad either. And Fred and . . . blast! All right, I'm the 'black sheep' there, too. I can't play chess to save my life."  
  
Harry's face broke out in a wicked grin. "What if we could do something about that?"  
  
"Let me guess. You've found a charm that will make someone an expert tactician, the only drawback being that one ends up being possessed by Alexander the Great or Napoleon Bonaparte, or something like that."  
  
Harry's eyes widened in faux admiration. "Hey! That's a good idea, now that you mention it."  
  
When Percy's jaw dropped in shock, Harry said, "Kidding! My thoughts were more along the lines of getting a chess strategy book at Flourish & Blott's and then, for as long as I'm welcome here, you and I can brush up on our chess games."  
  
"And then when you go back to Hogwarts and beat Ron soundly, what'll you tell him?"  
  
Harry was startled by the bitterness in Percy's tone. "Well, I'll tell him that I practiced over the summer." He paused, then added cautiously, "with you. Unless you don't want me to tell him that I was here." He added hastily.  
  
"But I thought you didn't want anyone to know where you are?"  
  
"Well, no. I want to hide out *now,* but I do have to go back to Hogwarts sooner or later, and when I do, it won't bother me if people know where I hid out. Unless you want me to keep it to myself. I can do aloof and mysterious if you want."  
  
Harry looked so wistfully hopeful that Percy had to laugh. "It doesn't bother me a bit if you want to tell Ron that I put you up for the summer."  
  
It took Harry a moment to respond. "'For the summer'?" He quoted back. "I can stay here all summer?"  
  
Percy nodded, shrugging. "You don't have to worry about crowding me. I'm used to sharing space with four younger siblings. And I'm hardly ever here anyhow."  
  
Impulsively, Harry threw himself into Percy's arms. "Thank you!" He said, hugging Percy tightly.  
  
It took a moment, but soon Percy was returning Harry's hug. "You're welcome."  
  
They released each other and Percy smiled a little lopsidedly at Harry. "So, what say we go to Flourish & Blott's, then pick up some dinner while we're out?"  
  
Harry smiled gently at him. "Sounds good to me."  
  
Together they exited the Diagon Alley side of the building and walked to Flourish & Blott's, where they were immediately set upon by a salesclerk. "May I help you?" He looked hopefully at Percy, who was clearly the elder of the two.  
  
"Do you have any books on chess?" Percy asked.  
  
"Right this way." The salesclerk walked them to the correct area, where there were more than fifty books on chess.  
  
Harry and Percy gaped at the selection. "Can you recommend any specific books?" Percy asked.  
  
"What level are you at? Beginner? Intermediate?"  
  
Harry and Percy looked at each other. "Intermediate, I guess." Percy answered. "We know the basics already, but are looking to brush up on strategy and things."  
  
"Ah." The salesclerk nodded sagely. "Then I have just the book for you. It's one of our best sellers, and I've never heard anything but good reports back about it." He reached forward and pulled one book from the shelf, handing it to Percy. _Chess Strategy by Lee,_ the title read. Neither the author's Christian name nor his surname was Lee.   
  
"Who's Lee?" Percy asked.  
  
The clerk shrugged. "Some local hero from the area where the wizard who wrote this lives. A Muggle, I think. But don't let that stop you from buying it." He added hastily.  
  
Percy smiled. "It won't. You happen to have sold it to two very Muggle-friendly wizards." He winked at Harry, who remembered their Mugglefest of the day before and smiled back.  
  
"Will that be all?"   
  
"My friend here," Percy indicated Harry, "would like to look at your novels."  
  
"And," Harry interrupted, "do you have the list yet for Hogwarts fifth years yet?"  
  
"Why yes, I believe we do."  
  
Soon, Harry and Percy left Flourish & Blott's, a large box of books levitating between them.   
  
"I can't believe you bought your school books already." Percy said. "We have to bribe Fred, George, Ron and Ginny to come and get their books."  
  
"I figured that I could get a start on my studies." Harry grinned. "Give Hermione a run for her money this year."   
  
After they stopped at one of Percy's favorite restaurants for dinner, they returned to Percy's apartment, where they spent the rest of the evening reading in companionable silence.


	4. 6 & 7 July 1995

Title: You Needed Me - 6 & 7 July 1995  
By: PepperjackCandy  
Rating: PG13  
Disclaimer: You recognize it? It's J.K. Rowling's.   
  
A/N: Thanks section - Thanks to Strega Brava, Just Silver, Niana, and Artema for your kind words about this story.   
  
And, ooh! A new character. Sort of. I guess I get to add "him" to my "claimer" in the next chapter. . . 

===========  
  
6 July 1995  
  
About an hour before Percy was supposed to pick up Harry for lunch, Penelope's owl arrived with a lunch invitation. He'd been dodging her for weeks, unable to face the fact that the next time he saw her, he'd break off their engagement.   
  
But somehow, talking to Harry about it had firmed his resolve to break it off, and so he scrawled a hasty acceptance and sent her owl back, then sent Hermes to Harry with a note postponing their lunch together to a later date. He apologized profusely, even though he knew that Harry would have told him he didn't need to. But he couldn't afford to miss this chance to set things right with his fiancee.  
  
An hour later, he and Penelope were sitting in a popular, well-lit restaurant. He could see the disappointment in her eyes that he hadn't chosen a more romantic location.  
  
"Percy. . . ."  
  
"Don't. I need to say something."   
  
It wasn't like Percy to interrupt, so Penelope waited patiently for him to finish what he was saying.   
  
"I've been doing a lot of thinking lately," Percy looked into Penelope's eyes wondered if she could see it coming. "Anyway, I . . . " _Don't back down now, Percy,_ "Ithinkweshouldstopseeingeachother."  
  
Hurt flashed in Penelope's eyes for a moment, but she quickly tucked it away and covered it with apathy. "I suppose you want the ring back . . ." She reached to wrench the diamond ring from her left hand.  
  
"No. You can keep it, if you want. I don't have any use for it." He'd expected to feel relieved, but all he felt was numb. He wondered distantly if he'd ever feel anything again.  
  
She laughed bitterly. "Like I have any need for it." She took the ring off and placed it on the table, and then she left the restaurant.  
  
Percy placed a couple of sickles on the table to cover the cost of his drink and, leaving the ring untouched, went back to his office.  
  
He went through the rest of the afternoon, wishing he could take it back, or go back to the Burrow and let Molly make him feel better. But he was old enough to know that there were no easy escapes in life. He'd just have to continue on and hope that this awful numbness would pass someday.   
  
While Percy was out, Harry spent the day reading his novel and studying his textbooks. Percy returned home exactly on time, flashing Harry a patently false smile and headed for the shower. He returned several minutes later, his hair still damp, and headed for the kitchen.   
  
Harry could sense something amiss in his friend's behavior, but couldn't place it. Concerned, he followed Percy into the kitchen.  
  
"Hi." He said softly, hesitantly. "How was . . . your day?"  
  
"It was all right." Percy shrugged as he looked high and low in the kitchen for something. "Got some more stuff organized. Nosed around to see if they've hired a new department head yet. Broke up with Penny. Damn! Where's the salt?"  
  
The salt was right out on the counter in plain view. Harry handed it to Percy silently, then said, "You broke up with Penny?"  
  
Percy didn't meet Harry's eyes. "Yeah. She asked me to lunch, and I figured that I really can't live like this anymore."  
  
"Like what?" Harry prompted.  
  
"You know. Dreading the next owl asking me to dinner. Wishing she were someone else. Wishing *I* were someone else."   
  
He finally met Harry's eyes, and the pain Harry saw there made him catch his breath. "What I want to know is where I got the idea that breaking up with her would make things better, when all it's done is cut off my feelings altogether." Percy knew he was lying. Seeing Harry made the pain he'd been holding at bay suddenly come crashing down around him.   
  
Harry could see Percy trying to keep from crying and was desperate to try to alleviate his pain. He walked to Percy and wrapped his arms around the taller man and felt the strain inside him ease as Percy quietly burst into tears.  
  
Percy's arms came around and he clung to Harry desperately for a long time. Eventually, though, Harry's legs began to tire. He led Percy to the couch and they hugged for another minute.  
  
"I should start dinner." Percy went to stand, but Harry restrained him.  
  
"You should stay right here. Do they have anything like carryout in Diagon Alley?"  
  
Percy nodded, snuffling loudly. "You - you . . ." His voice broke. He gestured vaguely in the direction of the pocket where he kept his wand.   
  
"That's all right. There's no rush. I just wanted to make sure we could get *something* to eat later."  
  
Harry slipped Percy's glasses off, looking closely into his friend's hazel eyes. "Don't want to get any more tear spots on these. Tear spots are a real bugger to get off of glasses." He put the glasses on the end table.   
  
"I wish I knew what to tell you," Harry said, "but I've never broken up with anyone. I've never even been on a date."  
  
"That's all right." Percy took Harry's hand and squeezed it gently. "You're here, and I appreciate that."  
  
"Do you want to talk?" Harry asked.  
  
Percy shook his head. "No." Then, to prove it, he continued. "It's just that at first I thought I loved her, then I thought I wasn't good enough for her, then I realized that I didn't love her. But if I didn't love her, then why'm I so miserable without her?"  
  
Harry was at a loss. The only broken romance he'd ever been privy to was Cedric and Cho's, and even thinking about going down that path wouldn't do either of them any good. And it didn't apply in this situation anyhow, as both Percy and Penelope were still alive.  
  
But something about the thought of Cedric and Cho hung with him and he said to Percy, "It's like a death, isn't it?"  
  
Percy looked at him steadily. "What?"  
  
"Well, it's the end of something. Your plans for the future. Whatever feelings you had for each other. Maybe you're just mourning for those things."  
  
"You might be right." Percy's head dropped heavily onto Harry's shoulder. "But it doesn't make me *feel* any better."  
  
"I think that only time can do that."  
  
"Probably." Percy admitted grudgingly.  
  
"Why don't we think about something else for a while?" Harry suggested.  
  
"What?"  
  
Harry's eyes rested for a moment on the chess strategy book.   
  
Percy seemed to read his mind. "Oh, no. I'm not up to chess tonight."  
  
"Well, then, how about we order some take-away and I can read my novel to you. It's pretty interesting."  
  
Percy groaned. "Fiction?"  
  
"Well, historical fiction. It's based on the life of Grindelwald. I figure that since the current Dark Lord keeps dragging me into his business, perhaps understanding the previous one would be a good idea." Percy still seemed unenthusiastic, so Harry suggested, "either that, or I can read from _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five_."  
  
Percy sighed. "I guess it'll have to be the novel, then."  
  
7 July 1995  
  
Percy spent the whole day at work, even though there still was no work to do. He explained that he'd take both Saturday and Sunday off, but that he couldn't possibly bring himself to miss any more office time that week.  
  
Harry knew that Percy was embarrassed to be so dependent on his job - he'd heard the Muggle term 'workaholic,' but he'd never really understood what it meant until now. Hermione's devotion to her schoolwork paled in comparison. Harry also suspected that Percy was using the office as a crutch to help him deal with his breakup with Penelope. And if that worked, more power to him.  
  
But Harry also knew how important Percy considered Harry's situation. Percy had already missed one and two-halves days from work that week, between missing Tuesday and leaving early on Monday and Wednesday, and he was planning to stay home all week-end to spend together.   
  
Harry spent the day reading his novel - Grindelwald's influence had just extended into Poland - and working on his Potions assignments. Potions was the class he was dreading most, but he knew that meant he had to work harder on it than on his other subjects.   
  
He couldn't help smiling at this train of thought. He absorbed more work ethic living with Percy for - what was it now? -- four days? Five? Than he had in four years in Hermione's back pocket. He wondered briefly what it was about Percy that made such an impact on his life.   
  
He stood, noticing that Percy would be returning from work soon. _Pity Percy has to cook after spending all day at the office,_ Harry thought. _Cooking cant be that hard. . ._   
  
He walked into the kitchen and began rummaging around, and by the time Percy returned, Harry had a fully-cooked, if unexciting meal featuring the traditional British 'meat and two veg.' The 'meat' in this case being what Harry thought were pork chops, and the 'veg'es being potatoes and asparagus, both boiled to within an inch of their lives.  
  
"Evening, Harry." Percy greeted him. Then he gasped. "You fixed dinner?"   
  
The expression on Percy's face, like he'd been given an unexpected gift, made Harry blush. "I hope I did all right. I'm not a very good cook."  
  
"I'm sure it'll be fine." Percy assured him. "It's probably better than the first few meals I made." He rolled his eyes. "Now *those* were inedible."  
  
They repaired to the living area and dug in. "The pork chops are excellent." Percy said lapsing back into silence again.   
  
Harry noticed that Percy didn't comment on the vegetables. "So, what could I do better with the vegetables?" He asked.  
  
"I didn't say anything . . ."  
  
"You didn't need to. What you *didn't* say is sufficient." Harry winced when he noticed his tone. "I'm sorry. I know there's something wrong with them, but don't know what." He said sincerely.  
  
Percy smiled. "I'm sorry, too. As for the vegetables, well, try adding salt to the potatoes next time. And asparagus is really better *steamed* rather than boiled."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"Being honest, I guess." Harry shrugged. "Not being any harsher than you needed to?"  
  
"I'm not sure I like the sound of that." Percy kidded gently.   
  
Harry moved to take the empty plate from Percy's hands, but Percy held it out of reach. "No. You cooked, it's my turn to clean up."  
  
After Percy cleaned the dishes, he returned to the living area and pulled out a Muggle chess set. "I read chapter one of that chess book last night." He told Harry. "If you'd like to get started . . ."   
  
Harry nodded. "Why do we need a Muggle chess set?"  
  
Percy shrugged. "It's what the book recommends. I guess there's no sense playing with pieces that'll give you attitude while you're still learning."  
  
"You play white." Harry offered.  
  
"No. I insist. You're the guest . . ."  
  
Harry sighed heavily. "Have you ever heard the term 'home-court advantage'?"  
  
"Right. That's why *you* should play white."  
  
"All right. Let's flip for it. Heads I play white, tails you play white."  
  
_Ting!_  
  
"All right. I'll play white." Percy sighed, handing the black pieces to Harry.  
  
After they'd finished setting up the board, Percy said, "Apparently, the book somehow actively coaches. It says in chapter two to do this," he pulled out his wand and tapping it gently on the book, incanted, "_vigoro liber._"  
  
Their eyes widened as two buds formed on the front of the book, one in the exact center of the book, the other parallel to it, nearer the bottom. The buds grew larger, and the way the book seemed to rise up tilted, Harry supposed that matching buds must be shooting forth from the back of the book as well.  
  
The buds lengthened, and sprouted hands from the higher ones, and feet from the lower ones. Then, somehow, bending in the middle, the book struggled it its feet, the binding side forming the 'back' and the page side forming the 'front.'  
  
"I am General Robert E. Lee, or a reasonable facsimile thereof, and I'm here to teach you," the front of the book twisted a little, seeming to look from Harry to Percy and back. "Both of y'all, how to play chess."


	5. 11 & 12 July 1995

Title: You Needed Me -11 & 12 July 1995  
By: PepperjackCandy  
Rating: PG13  
Disclaimer: You recognize it? It's J.K. Rowling's. General Robert E. Lee belongs to history. My twisted chess book version belongs to me.  
  
A/N: Thank you once again to my reviewers, Strega Brava, Merii, Myr, Artema, Just Silver, Ruka-chan, LadyVoldemort, UserFriendly and Rubicon.  
  
General Lee has no discernable Southern (U.S.) accent because some attempts at writing out the pronunciation of a Southern accent render the dialogue virtually unrecognizable. I chose not to take that chance. Plus, he was from Northern Virginia, and thus probably didn't have a thick Georgia-type accent anyhow.  
  
Also, since Percy's full Christian name could very well be Percival, I've decided that his parents were on an Arthurian legend kick at the time of his birth and have given him the middle name "Galahad."  
  
===========  
  
11 July 1995  
  
Harry and Percy sat on the floor, their chess pieces arrayed in front of them.  
  
Harry, who was playing white, reached forward to touch one of his bishops.  
  
"No!" General Lee said forcefully. "No, no, no! Would you please *look* at the position of the black pieces."  
  
Harry eyed the black pieces carefully. He was walking right into a trap that way. "Oh."  
  
He looked up at Percy, who was staring at his own pieces, a befuddled expression on his face. "I don't see it." Percy said with simple honesty.  
  
"You don't see it?" General Lee asked.  
  
Harry interrupted him. "_Dormio!_"  
  
With that, General Lee collapsed.   
  
"You all right, Perce?" Harry asked.  
  
"Huh?" Percy looked up at Harry. "Yeah. I'm fine. My mind's just . . ."  
  
"On work, I know." Harry grinned.  
  
"It's just that they've asked seven people to head the Department, and they all turned it down."  
  
"Well, some people are a little squeamish about taking a job where the last person to hold it was . . ."  
  
"Murdered horribly?"  
  
"Something like that, yeah."  
  
They sat silent for a few minutes, then Harry said, "Hey. Why don't you put in for the job?"  
  
"Ri-i-i-ght. I can see it now. Barely nineteen, only one year out of Hogwarts, and Head of the Department for International Magical Co-Operation."  
  
"Why not?" Harry shrugged. "Who knows that department better than you do?"  
  
Percy pouted. "No-one, probably."  
  
"And who filled in for Mr. Crouch when he . . . disappeared?"  
  
Percy's aspect brightened. "I did."  
  
"And did anyone believe that you *weren't* getting your orders from Mr. Crouch?"  
  
"No. They didn't." Percy broke out in a grin. "Would you mind if we didn't get back to the chess game tonight, Harry? I've got to work on my resume."  
  
12 July 1995  
  
_Dear Mum,  
  
I know this is a strange thing to be asking, but doesn't Ron usually ask you to bake a birthday cake for Harry Potter around this time of the summer?  
  
Things are as to be expected here. As Dad has probably told you, they haven't found a new Department Head yet, but they'll hopefully find someone soon.  
  
Percy_  
  
Percy rolled up the letter and attached it to Hermes's leg, sending his owl off to Molly. As much as he wanted to tell his mother that he was going to put in for the position himself, he knew he'd never be able to look her in the eye again if she knew he was going to apply and he didn't get it. _This way,_ he thought as Hermes dwindled to a tiny dot in the distance, _when I don't get the job, only Harry and I will know what a fool I've made of myself._  
  
Turning back to his desk, he pulled out another sheet of parchment and his very best quill and began writing in the formal calligraphy he'd worked years to perfect.   
  
_To the Very Honorable Cornelius Fudge  
  
Dear Minister Fudge:  
  
I know it's presumptuous of me,_  
  
He crumpled up the piece of parchment and used an _incendio_ charm to incinerate it.  
  
_Git!_ He yelled at himself. _Don't remind them that you're being presumptuous. Pretend like you're just asking for your due in the position._  
  
He took out another sheet.   
  
_To the Very Honorable Cornelius Fudge  
  
Dear Minister Fudge:_  
  
He paused to chew on the end of his quill, a sure sign of exactly how nervous he was.  
  
_As I'm sure you may remember,_  
  
He pulled out a blade and scraped the last two words off thoroughly.  
  
_As I'm sure you will remember, I have been a loyal Ministry employee for better than one year now. During the,_  
  
He paused again.  
  
_absence of Bartemius Crouch from his position as Head of the Department for International Magical Co-Operation, it fell to me to handle the workings of the Department as well as making statements to the media on Mr. Crouch's behalf.  
  
This, I believe, has proven that I am more than capable of supervising the operations of the Department, and I ask that you consider the attached resume for the position.  
  
Respectfully yours,  
  
Percival G. Weasley_  
  
He signed with a flourish, then, before he could lose his nerve, paired it with his resume, sealed it, and sent it up to Fudge's office.  
  
_There. It's done. Probably the stupidest thing I've ever done in my life._ But then he remembered the simple way that Harry put the idea forth, as if Fudge would be a fool *not* to give him the job. _I need to see Harry. I wonder if he's available for lunch?_ He looked over at Hermes's roost, but then he remembered that he'd sent Hermes to Molly.   
  
Without another thought, Percy Apparated back to his apartment.  
  
Harry heard the "pop" of someone Apparating into the room and looked up to see Percy. "Hi." Harry greeted him with a smile.  
  
"You available for lunch?" Percy asked.  
  
Harry looked around pointedly at the textbooks scattered around him and said, "Of course."  
  
Percy and Harry walked out through the Diagon Alley exit and proceeded down the street. Percy led Harry past most of the popular restaurants on the street, directing him to a small bistro that he liked to visit on his own sometimes.  
  
The hostess greeted him with a smile. "Good afternoon, Mr. Weasley!" She looked from Percy to Harry, lighting on the younger man's scar, and then to Percy again, her smile turning slightly inquisitive.  
  
"Hello, Agatha. This is a friend whose name just happens to be Harry." He said pointedly.  
  
Agatha nodded. "It's very nice to meet you. Harry."  
  
Agatha then directed Harry and Percy to a table, giving them menus before she left.  
  
Percy smiled at Harry. "Yes, she knows about the whole Boy Who Lived thing, but a lot of. . . more famous wizards and witches eat here, and they pride themselves on their discretion. I wanted a chance to talk to you without being mobbed by fans." He winked at Harry.  
  
The waiter came by and they placed their orders. After the waiter left, Harry asked, "Why didn't you just send Hermes? I don't need a personal invitation to lunch."  
  
To his surprise, Percy blushed. "I sent Hermes to Mum. I had a question to ask her."  
  
"A question? About what?"  
  
Percy wasn't ready to field that question. Instead he leaned forward and said in a conspiratorial tone, "Well, I did it."  
  
"Did what?" Harry began, but then his eyes widened. "You did it? Put in for the job?"  
  
Percy nodded and his blush deepened. "I still can't believe I did it. But I figured the worst that can happen is that Mr. Fudge'll post a copy of it on the bulletin board at work and everyone'll have a good laugh. It's not like I can get fired for it, anyway."  
  
Harry leaned forward just like Percy had done and reached one hand forward to rest on Percy's hand. That simple physical contact calmed and centered Percy in exactly the way he needed.   
  
"You'll get the job. Or you won't." Harry said.  
  
"Thanks." Percy responded with wry humor.  
  
Their food came, then, and Percy pulled the topic of conversation onto Harry's schoolwork and his expectations for his O.W.L.s at the end of the year. While questioning Harry and listening to his responses, part of Percy's brain considered Harry's upcoming birthday. _I *know* it's soon, so what on earth would the Boy Who Lived need for a present? According to Ron, he's practically made of money._  
  
As Percy lifted his fork to his mouth, his eyes lit on the ring he always wore on his right hand and he had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from grinning. _Yes, of course. Some things can't be bought with money, only with connections._


	6. 17 July 1995

Title: You Needed Me - 17 July 1995  
By: PepperjackCandy  
Rating: PG13  
Disclaimer: You recognize it? It's J.K. Rowling's. General Robert E. Lee belongs to history. My twisted chess book version belongs to me.  
  
A/N: A *huge* thank you to my reviewers for chapter 5, Krissy, Strega Brava, ~*Black Dreamz*~, Oceana, jona, Erin LaCroix, Ruka-chan, Myr, Lady Gambalinera, KCarke, Katharione, Foxy77, Rubicon, JediGinny, Merii, Creamy Mimi, LadyVoldemort, Artema, Coqui, j and Netty. :whew: I hope I didn't miss anyone, and if I did, it was purely an oversight, I assure you! Your reviews are a large part of what keeps me writing. (the other part is my muse, and the plot bunnies that keep nibbling my ankles -- no, wait, that's a kitten!)  
  
===========  
  
_17 July 1995  
  
Dear Percy:  
  
Yes, Ron does ask me to make a cake for Harry's birthday around this time every year. His birthday in on 31 July.   
  
I hope this letter finds you well and that you are able to put the attached to good use.  
  
Much love,  
Your Mother_  
  
Percy did the mental calculations as he opened the box that had arrived with Hermes. _Fourteen days. I guess I'd better get my order in to Buzz immediately, then. Hope he's not too backlogged._   
  
The box was stuffed full of home-baked goodies. He snagged one chocolate-chip cookie from the box and set it aside, noting idly that it was a much larger box than he was used to receiving from her. He brushed the thought away, thinking, _Maybe she figured I'd share it with Penelope._  
  
The delicious smell from the box drove him crazy throughout the morning. He wanted nothing more than to take it back to his apartment and put it in the kitchen, where he wouldn't be tempted by it, but he had to see Buzz as soon as possible to make sure he'd have Harry's present in time for his birthday.  
  
He hurried down Diagon Alley to Ollivander's Wand Shop, then climbed the rickety side staircase to a small apartment. He knocked on the door. "Please be there, Buzz." He whispered under his breath.  
  
The door opened. "Yes? Oh, it's you, Mr. Weasley! Come in." The old man's face lit up at the sight of Percy.  
  
"Yes, it's me." Percy responded as he stepped over the threshold. He felt awkward asking, but Harry deserved the best he could provide for his birthday and so he stuck to it. "I want to ask a favor of you."  
  
"What?"  
  
Percy removed the ring from his the third finger of his right hand. "Could you make another one of these for me? Well, not for me, for a friend, really."  
  
Buzz looked at the ring and smiled up at Percy. "It must be someone very important to you." He said as his eyes twinkled.  
  
"Yes. It is." Percy was surprised as he realized that he was telling the truth. Harry was very important to him.   
  
"Exactly like this?"  
  
"Well, except the monogram. My friend's initials are H.J.P."  
  
"The _P_ stands for his surname?"  
  
Percy nodded. "Er, if it's not too much to ask, how soon can it be ready?"  
  
Buzz looked up at him. "You're a customer. It's perfectly acceptable to ask when it will be ready." He looked at the workbench that sat beside the door. "It should be about a week. No later than the 25th."  
  
Percy breathed a sigh of relief. It would easily be ready in time for Harry's birthday. Buzz handed the ring back to him. "Won't you need that?" Percy asked.   
  
The old man shook his head. "No. I can remember exactly what went into that. I just needed to see it for a second. I'll send you an owl as soon as it's ready."   
  
Percy's grin broadened as he slipped the ring back on. "Thank you. I'll have the money sent to you from Gringott's as soon as possible."  
  
Then, a spring in his step, Percy left the shop and headed back towards the office. He glanced at his clock as he arrived, which showed that he didn't have time to get the box of goodies back to his apartment and still be back in his office by the end of his lunch break. Instead, he tied the box to Hermes's leg along with a hastily-written note.  
  
_Harry,   
  
These are from Mum. She sent enough for both of us, but I wanted to get them out of here before I ended up eating them all myself. Help yourself to them while I'm at work.  
  
Percy_  
  
Later that afternoon, Percy got a message from Cornelius Fudge's office.  
  
_Mr. Weasley:  
  
Please leave the afternoon of 18 July open so that you may speak with the Minister regarding your application.  
  
Very truly yours,  
  
H. McGonagall_  
  
Percy's hands went numb as he read the letter from Fudge's secretary. _He wants to talk to me - tomorrow - about the application? He can't sack me for it, can he?_  
  
He immediately admonished himself for the thought. He'd never heard of anyone being fired for putting in for a job they weren't qualified for, but that tiny voice in the back of his head just responded that there was a first time for everything. _I wish I could just go see Harry,_ he thought, _I never listen to that little voice when he's around._  
  
But he still had two hours to go, and so, with grim determination, he turned back to his desk.  
  
Harry untied the box of goodies from Hermes's leg, scratching the owl behind his wings and opening the box. What he saw inside made his mouth water - a variety of cookies and small cakes that would feed a small army. _Well, Percy said to help myself,_ he thought as he took one chocolate chip cookie from the box and resealed it, placing it in the kitchen. While he was there, he began planning dinner. Percy had come to his rescue by providing him with some recipes.  
  
He was peeling carrots when Percy returned home. "Hi." He grinned at his summer roommate.   
"Hi." Percy smiled back as he opened the box of goodies from Molly. "Harry, did you eat any of these?"  
  
Harry looked at Percy sheepishly. Years of conditioning by the Dursleys created a litany that began repeating in his head _Percy told me to help myself, didn't he? Would he have said that if he didn't mean it? Maybe he just said that to be polite._ "I had one."   
  
Percy looked at Harry for a moment, then smiled. "Only one? I'm amazed you had that much willpower." He opened the box.   
  
_I should have known he meant it. Damn it!_ Harry was cursing himself for his doubts when Percy held out the box for him to take something. Harry reached in and took out a small cake, and Percy took out another chocolate chip cookie.  
  
"So? How'd your day go?" Harry asked, wishing he sounded less like a housewife.  
  
Percy's eyebrows shot up as if something important had just occurred to him and he hastily swallowed his bite of cookie. "I think they want to interview me for the job tomorrow."  
  
"You think . . .?" Harry asked.  
  
Percy shrugged helplessly. "Well, the note I got from Mr. Fudge's secretary said that he wants to talk to me about my application. That could mean an interview, it could mean that they're going to sack me for my impertinence."  
  
Percy felt his doubts dissipate in the warmth of Harry's smile. "You *know* they're asking you for an interview, Perce." He assured him.   
  
Percy smiled back. "Yeah. I guess they must be. It's just hard to believe, you know? I expected my application to just disappear into the ether."  
  
Harry laughed gently. "You may just get the job, you know." He reminded Percy.  
  
"I sincerely doubt it."   
  
"Eh. Well, we'll find out tomorrow, won't we? Look, dinner's ready and then you can kick my butt in chess."  
  
Percy grinned. "Something tells me the General's going to kick both of our butts, like he usually does."  
  
"You're probably right. Oh, and over dinner, I want to talk to you about the O.W.L.s." Harry said as they retired to the living area to eat.   
  
Hours later, Percy was paid his first compliment from General Lee. "There! You did really well, Weasley. Took all of Potter's pieces into account and everything."  
  
Percy silently blushed in response.  
  
"Now, what are you going to do, Potter?"  
  
Harry, completely flustered, glanced around the board and admitted, "I don't know. This?" He moved his knight.  
  
General Lee sighed. "Well, that's an acceptable move I guess, Potter. Maybe the rook would've been a better choice, though."  
  
Harry looked down and walked through his possible moves with the rook. "Oh! You mean like this?" He put the knight back and moved the rook.   
  
"Yeah. Just like that. But the knight was the move you made, so that's one you're going to have to stick with."  
  
Now it was Percy's turn. He glanced up at the clock. "I didn't notice the time until now." He said. "If I'm going to be in good shape for my . . . talk with Fudge tomorrow, I'd better get some sleep."  
  
"Well, then, good night." General Lee said as Percy used the _dormio_ charm that put the book into suspended animation for the night.  
  
They put the board aside for the night and Percy curled up in his nest on the floor.   
  
"Why don't you take the couch tonight, Perce?" Harry asked.  
  
Percy looked sternly at him. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."  
  
Harry sighed, deciding it wasn't worth fighting over. "Well, I guess I'll just read for a while before I go to sleep, then." Not for the first time, Harry wished for a television so that he could catch up on the late night talk shows.   
  
"Good night, Harry."  
  
"'Night, Perce."


	7. 18 July 1995

Title: You Needed Me - 18 July 1995  
By: PepperjackCandy  
Rating: PG13  
  
Disclaimer: Harry, Percy, Cornelius Fudge, the Ministry of Magic, Diagon Alley, and most associated things and people belong to J.K. Rowling. General Robert E. Lee belongs to history. My twisted chess book version belongs to me. As, I guess, does Hecate McGonagall. 

A/N: As always, my deepest thanks to my reviewers. For chapter 6, they were: crys clouse, Azure, Creamy Mimi, plumeria, Padfoot Lover, Silent Stalker, Pyro, Merii, just silver, Tinderblast, Strega Brava, Artema, Myr, Ruka-chan, Erin LaCroix, Pumpkin Hatching, Krissy, JediGinny, Rashelana Lupin, Zortified, and Kimagure. If I missed anyone, I apologize. Now on with Chapter 7! 8-)  
  
===========  
  
18 July 1995  
  
"Well, I guess I'd better be getting back to work." Percy said, reluctant to leave. "Can't keep Mr. Fudge waiting." He felt like every internal organ was tied up in knots.  
  
Harry stood. "Walk me back to the flat?"   
  
At Harry's warm smile, one of the knots inside Percy loosened a little. "Sure."   
  
Together, they walked down Diagon Alley to Percy's building, and up the stairs to Percy's flat. When they got to the door, Harry said, "Good luck on the interview. Not that you'll need it." Then, grinning widely, he hugged Percy.  
  
Percy left feeling invincible.  
  
He returned to the Ministry of Magic offices where he went directly up Cornelius Fudge's office. His secretary, Hecate McGonagall, looked up from the letter she was transcribing with a triplicate quill set and motioned for him to wait just a second.   
  
After she was finished, she looked up at him, smiling gently. "Take a seat and the Minister will be with you in a moment."  
  
Percy sat down, still watching Hecate. It never failed to surprise him, such amiability from a woman who looked identical to Minerva McGonagall, his old Transfiguration teacher and Head of House -- Minerva and Hecate McGonagall were identical twins, though Hecate ended up in Hufflepuff.   
  
_Some day,_ Percy thought as she went about her work, _I'll have to see if I can find a reason for the abundance of identical twins in wizarding families - the McGonagall twins, Fred and George, and those girls - what was their surname? You'd think it was a decade ago, rather than just last year . . . Patil! Parvati and . . . something else starting with 'P.'_  
  
He shifted position slightly, wishing he'd brought something to work on, and continued waiting.   
  
Half an hour later, he stood and walked to the window, looking out into the park that fronted the building. He wished idly that Fudge would hurry up.  
  
A few minutes later, he sat back down again. Hecate looked up at him. "The Minister should only be a few more minutes." She assured him.  
  
_It's a test._ Percy reassured himself. _He wants to make sure that I really want the position, so he's keeping me hanging as long as possible. If I were Minister of Magic, I'd . . ._ He stopped, shocked at how hopefully he'd thought that. _Do I want to be Minister of Magic? Yes. I do want to be Minister of Magic. Well, if I were Minister of Magic, I'd treat my employees with respect._ It felt good to say that. Very, very good, in fact.  
  
Finally, Hecate said, "the Minister will see you now."  
  
Percy stood and walked into the inner office, where Cornelius Fudge sat behind an oversized mahogany desk. The desk was empty, save for a roll of parchment, quill and inkpot. On the credenza behind him stood a perch with three Ministry owls on it.   
  
"Mr. Weasley." Fudge said, standing to shake Percy's hand. "Please, have a seat."  
  
Percy sat in one of the guest chairs that Fudge had indicated.  
  
"So, apparently you'd like to be considered to head up the Department for International Magical Co-operation."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Tell me," Fudge leaned forward, his eyes glittering maliciously, "why I should give the position to *you*, fresh out of Hogwarts."  
  
It took every ounce of courage Percy possessed not to back down. "Because, sir, I'm the person most qualified for the job."  
  
"Oh, really?" This time, Fudge leaned back, exuding an oily self-confidence that put Percy's teeth on edge. Percy thought he'd have to research which House Fudge had been in. He wouldn't be surprised if it had been Slytherin. "There are many, many wizards -- and witches -- older and more experienced than you."  
  
"But they don't know the department, sir. Not like I do. I assisted Mr. Crouch in running the Triwizard Tournament, and even filled in for him, successfully, after he disappeared. So successfully," he reminded him pointedly, "that no-one not in the loop even knew he had gone.  
  
"Furthermore," he continued, "I know quite a few of Mr. Crouch's old contacts personally, and have even made a few of my own." Having run out of things to say, he stopped before his tension made him babble on further.  
  
Eventually, Fudge broke the silence. "You've done good work here at the Ministry, son. And I have no doubt that you'll be a valuable employee in the future. We'll be in touch about the position." And then he picked up his quill and started writing, effectively dismissing Percy from his presence.  
  
Percy stood, hoping he was projecting the self-confidence the twins had always accused him of, and stepped back out into the front office.  
  
Hecate smiled at him as he left. "I wish I could tell you if you have the job, but I can't. You know how it is." She winked at him.   
  
_Definitely not like Minerva McGonagall._ He smiled back at her. "Thanks, Hecate. See you around." As he returned to his office, he wondered if she really meant it the way that it sounded -- that she believed that he already had the job.  
  
Percy returned to his office, but he was so desperate to talk to Harry that he couldn't get anything done, so he sent a message up to Hecate's office that he'd be taking vacation time for the rest of the day, _bringing me up to two and a half missed days since I started with the Ministry. And all for Harry._ He grinned as he headed down to Diagon Alley and home to his flat.  
  
Harry was beside himself. For the last hour and a half, he couldn't think of anything besides Percy's interview. He'd tried to study. He'd tried to read. He'd even toyed with sending a message to him with Hedwig, but figured that Percy had enough on his mind without getting unwanted owls from his summer roommate. _I wish he'd come home and tell me how it went._  
  
Then, as if he'd said, _Accio Percy,_ Percy was there, smiling sheepishly. "Hi. I couldn't get any work done, so I, er, came home."  
  
Harry was fairly bouncing up and down with impatience. "So? How'd it go?"  
  
"You could at least let me get in the door first." Percy laughed.   
  
"All right." Harry stepped out of the way and waited while Percy walked into the living area. "So? How'd it go?" He repeated.  
  
Percy laughed again, a little louder this time. "I really don't know." He admitted. "His secretary all but admitted that I had the job, but I don't know if she really *knows* or not."  
  
Harry smiled. "I bet that you have the job."  
  
"I hope so. At least I think I hope so. So, it's too early to think about dinner, but you want to, I don't know," he shrugged, "go for a walk or something?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Sounds good to me."   
  
Soon, they were changed into Muggle clothes and had exited the Muggle side of Percy's building, walking in silence through the park across the street.  
  
The silence was companionable at first. Harry mused over the previous weeks, reminding himself that the past fifteen days had been just a very pleasant interlude and that he'd have to go back to Hogwarts in just over a month.  
  
But soon, Harry could sense a change in Percy. He could tell that Percy was upset about something.  
  
_Should I ask him? Or should I trust that he'll tell me about whatever it is?_ He nearly chuckled. _He's going to just open up and confide in me. Ri-i-i-ght._  
  
He looked at Percy. "You all right, Perce?"  
  
"Yeah. Fine." Percy responded distractedly.  
  
_Wait for it . . . three, two, one._  
  
"Actually, there is something."  
  
Harry silently indicated a bench with his head and they sat.  
  
Percy opened with, "I'm not sure I deserve the job, if I do get it."  
  
Harry hastened to reassure him. "Of *course* you deserve the job!"  
  
Percy shook his head sadly. "You see, I've . . . there's these . . . feelings . . . that have come up."  
  
Percy looked into Harry's eyes, and Harry felt something inside him spinning as his green eyes met his friend's blue-gray ones. "Feelings?"  
  
Percy looked away. "It's stupid. Never mind."  
  
"Percy." The sincere tone in Harry's voice dragged Percy's gaze back. "Feelings are never stupid. *Your* feelings, especially."  
  
Percy sighed. "It's just that . . . I realized today that I want to be Minister of Magic someday."  
  
"Well, I'd vote for you. If . . . Minister of Magic were an elected title, that is."  
  
"That's not it. You're not supposed to *want* the things you want, 'cause that just proves that you don't deserve them."  
  
"Huh?"   
  
Percy sighed. "Look at Mr. Fudge. He wanted the job, and he doesn't deserve it."  
  
"I'm following you so far . . ."  
  
"Who should be Minister of Magic? Professor Dumbledore, that's who."  
  
"All right . . ."  
  
"And *they* offered *him* the job."  
  
"But he didn't want the job."  
  
"*Exactly!*"  
  
Harry shook his head as if to clear it. "Let's start this again. You want to be Minister of Magic someday."  
  
"Right."  
  
"And that proves that if you *were* made Minister of Magic, you'd be as hopeless at it as Fudge is."  
  
"Right."  
  
"Because Professor Dumbledore refused the job when it was offered to him."  
  
"Right."  
  
Harry paused for a moment, uncertain how to counter his friend's fear. "Ah-ha! But how do you know for certain that Dumbledore didn't want the job?"  
  
Percy explained in a simple tone, like he was speaking to a young child. "Because he turned it down."  
  
"But I seem to remember in History of Magic, Binns going on about how someone refused a crown of some sort because they didn't want to look too eager."  
  
Percy nodded. "Julius Caesar was supposed to have done that, I know."  
  
"So if he could refuse when it's offered the first time . . ."  
  
Percy's eyes widened. "You're not suggesting . . . ."  
  
"Why not?" Harry shrugged. "I'm pretty sure that Dumbledore's only human, and, well, you've got to admit that it's at least as reasonable that he wanted the job but refused so that he wouldn't look too eager, as to assume that just because he turned it down, he *didn't* want the job, isn't it?"  
  
"I guess." Percy admitted with bad humor.  
  
"And when did start thinking that you don't deserve to get the things you get? What about your O.W.Ls and N.E.W.Ts? You put so much hard work into them, you can't convince me that you didn't deserve them."  
  
"Look, I never said it was logical." Percy snapped, but almost immediately, he saw the humor in what he'd just said. "I *am* being illogical, aren't I?" He smiled softly at Harry.  
  
"Just a little." Harry nodded, grinning back. "But I'll forgive you for it."


	8. 21 July 1995

Title: You Needed Me - 21 July 1995  
By: PepperjackCandy  
Rating: PG13  
  
Disclaimer: Harry, Percy, Cornelius Fudge, the Ministry of Magic, Diagon Alley, and most associated things and people belong to J.K. Rowling. General Robert E. Lee belongs to history. My twisted chess book version belongs to me. Hecate McGonagall is also mine.  
  
A/N: Thank you as always, to my reviewers: Ruka-Chan, padfoot lover, Creamy Mimi, Craww, Zortified, Erin LaCroix, jacks, Muggle and plumeria!  
  
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_Percy must really be rubbing off on me. Look at this, more than a month left in break, and I'm revising for my OWLs already._ Harry thought as he looked up from his textbook. _Of course, Percy certainly hasn't been his usual self lately. Three days and he still hasn't heard back from Fudge._  
  
Sighing, he thought back to that morning, when Percy had been so distracted that he completely forgot to use the _stypticus_ charm, and emerged from the bathroom with a fresh blood spot on his neck. Harry, who had just started shaving regularly, and whose mind was functioning at a slightly higher level, had to pull his friend aside and stop the bleeding before he could leave for work.  
  
_Poor Percy! He's just beside himself. I just wish Fudge'd get off his arse and make a decision. Even a disappointed Percy would be better than a distracted, irritable Percy. And with the week-end coming up and everything._  
  
That's when he made his decision. Rather than one of Harry's usual thrown-together meals, Harry would arrange for a really *good* meal for dinner that night. He glanced at the clock, noticing that he still had four hours until Percy came home for the evening.  
  
He knew most of Percy's favorite restaurants, all of which were on Diagon Alley. Straightening his robe, he stood and headed for the Diagon Alley staircase, and stepping out into the early-afternoon sunshine.  
  
In the days he'd been staying with Percy, he'd never left the flat without Percy, and the street was full of wizards, witches and the occasional non-human being, making Harry cringe inwardly, fearful of their reaction to The Boy Who Let Cedric Diggory Die. He steeled himself. And thinking of Percy, Harry stepped out into the bustle of Diagon Alley.   
  
Without Percy there to protect him from them, Harry was assaulted by his memories of the previous tragic year. He saw pictures of dragons, and ads for custom-designed enchanted hedge mazes. He saw ads for a book on ridding your koi pond of grindylows. It was the thought of Percy that gave him the strength to take each step, that kept him from running back to the flat. That kept him from hiding, again.  
  
Finally, he made it to the restaurant, and placed his order, making arrangements for it to be delivered at half-past five, giving the delivery elves plenty of time before Percy got home from work. Then he returned, never even thinking about Cedric and his past problems, his only thoughts being for Percy, to the flat.  
  
The three and a half hours before the delivery elves arrived dragged. Slowly. He tried to revise for his OWLs, but couldn't concentrate. He tried to read his novel, but had lost the knack for getting lost in the flow of the writer's words. Finally, he ended up placing a bowl on the floor on the opposite side of the tiny living area and trying to flip his deck of cards into them, one by one. He was getting pretty good at it, too, when the knock at the door came.  
  
He collected his cards and stood, admitting the delivery elves into the flat. They hurried into action, and in a moment, a table stood in the middle of the living area, bearing fine china and flatware. The food was set aside with a small charm on it to keep it warm until Percy returned home.   
  
After everything had been laid out, one delivery elf, who seemed to be in charge, approached him with a slip of paper. "Is everything to Mr. Potter's liking, sir?" He asked obsequiously.  
  
Harry nodded. "Yes, very nice."   
  
"Then, if Mr. Potter would sign here, please?" He held out the slip of paper.  
  
Harry looked it over and saw that it was a listing of everything that the elves had delivered, with a big red _X_ where he needed to sign. Harry quickly signed it and handed it back to the elf.  
  
"When Mr. Potter is finished with the meal, if he would be sticking his wand out the window, the elves will be returning to clean up." The lead elf said as the elves took their leave, leading Harry to the conclusion that he was to signal out the window with his wand, and the elves would return and pick up the furniture and dishes. At least, he hoped that's what the elf meant.  
  
"Thank you." Harry said sincerely, though he knew full well that the elves didn't need such things. It made him feel better.  
  
The lead elf clearly was used to working with humans, for he answered, as if speaking from a script, "Mr. Potter is welcome." And then the elf left, closing the door behind himself.  
  
Harry glanced at the clock. Percy was due home momentarily. He sat down on the couch and paged idly through his Charms book until he heard Percy's footfalls in the hallway outside. Percy opened the door, and Harry turned to see his reaction to his surprise.   
  
Percy went utterly pale when he saw the well-appointed table that now dominated the living area. Harry could practically count his friend's freckles from across the room, and he feared he'd made a horrible mistake somehow.   
  
Then Percy spoke. "Harry - How did you know?"  
  
"Know what?"  
  
"That I got the job. I only just found out myself."  
  
Before he knew what had happened, Harry was rocketing across the room, enveloping Percy in an enthusiastic hug. "You did? Oh, Perce! I'm so happy for you!"  
  
Percy blushed slightly. "I guess so." He looked at the table.  
  
"Oh, that. No. I just ordered that to, you know, make you feel better. You've been so out of sorts since Fudge hadn't told you whether you got the job or not."  
  
He led Percy to one of the chairs and set to work dishing out the roast chicken and spiced potatoes. "So? How'd you find out?" Harry asked as he set Percy's plate in front of him.  
  
"Mr. Fudge called me up to his office just after lunch, and told me himself." Percy responded, practically bursting his buttons in his pride.   
  
"Just after lunch? What time?"  
  
"About two, I expect. Why?"  
  
"Nothing." Harry shook his head as he put his own plate down on the other side of the table and took his seat. "It's just funny that I decided to do this," he indicated the table, "about then, too."  
  
"Maybe we have some kind of psychic connection." Percy said in a joking tone, as un-Percylike as Harry could possibly imagine.  
  
"Oh, undoubtedly." Harry agreed facetiously. "It couldn't just have been coincidence at all, could it?"  
  
Percy laughed out loud at this, and together they dug into the meal.   
  
Harry watched Percy while they ate, marveling at genetics, and how much like Ron Percy could be, but how much he was also his very own man. Harry marveled at how grown Percy was. Percy had put on airs of being grown when they'd first met, but Percy had been a boy -- a fifteen year old boy. But now he was a man. Harry wondered when, exactly, it had happened. When Percy had been made Head Boy? When he'd graduated? Just today, when he got the promotion?  
  
"Percy?" He broke the silence.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"When did you grow up?"  
  
"What?" Percy stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Well, when we first met, you were fifteen. The age I'm turning in," he thought, "ten days."  
  
Percy didn't seem surprised that Harry's birthday was coming up so soon, "Right . . .," he prompted.  
  
"But you weren't grown yet. I mean, I'm not going to be all grown up at fifteen, so I know that you weren't."  
  
Percy nodded for Harry to continue.  
  
"But now you're grown, and I don't remember it happening."  
  
Percy shrugged. "I don't remember it happening either." He looked down at his plate, like he was studying it. "It's just one of those things I guess."   
  
"Percy?"  
  
Percy looked up.  
  
"When's your birthday?"  
  
Percy gave Harry a peculiar smile. "September 15th."  
  
Harry wondered at the smile that Percy had given him. "Oh."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "Just curious. Wondering when you're turning twenty." As Percy turned back to his dinner, Harry began to wonder what he could give Percy for his birthday that Hedwig could successfully carry to him.  
  
  
A/N: Just for the entertainment value, I share my own personal favorite chicken recipe, Jeff Smith's Chicken stuffed with potatoes and olives http://www.angelfire.com/ca2/twarda/recipes/Chicken_Stuffed_with_Potatoes_and_Olives.html. I opt out of the optional anchovies. 


End file.
